


Debrief

by InsomniaNoir



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch Genji Shimada, Blackwatch Jesse McCree, Blackwatch Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Scientists, Dubious Morality, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Healthy Scientist relationship, Internal Conflict, for now, shower scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 01:06:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsomniaNoir/pseuds/InsomniaNoir
Summary: “Are you going to tell me what happened?” The question almost caught Moira off-guard.She initially wanted to disclose some aspects of the mission to Angela, but she would have to omit the main cause of the mission progressing the way it did. Yet, she found herself hesitating.





	Debrief

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back from the grave with a new pseud. UltimaSomnia will forever be mine, not sharing that.  
> I'll upload some of my works that are on my tumblr to keep this account alive. Also, if you want to check out said tumblr (ultimasomnia.tumblr.com) -wink wink- or my Twitter (@InsomniaNoir) -EXTREME WINK- then you most definitely should. 
> 
> This fic takes place immediately after the Venice incident.  
> Respective character ages for the couple?  
> Moira – 37 | Angela - 29

The ride back on the dropship after the mission was unnecessarily tense. McCree still couldn’t fathom Commander Reyes’s decision to end Antonio’s life. The concept of something not going according to plan is common in Blackwatch and how they operate, but in this instance, it shattered Jesse’s ideas of morality within these covert operations.

Genji already disclosed during the mission how he agreed with Reyes’s executive decision in killing Antonio. Moira approved as well. Given McCree’s vehement refusal of his decision, he did nothing but argue the second the dropship lifted off with them. O’Deorain felt fatigued, not just from the mission they endured, but from hearing the constant bickering. The smell of testosterone almost insufferable, she was ready to open her mouth to say something until the somber Japanese cyborg beat her to the punch.

“Shut the fuck up, McCree!”

Silence. All eyes turned to bright crimson eyes that were tucked in the corner of the ship looking fiercely at the two men near the door.

“What’s done is done and if you do not stop your whining about it, I will end you myself.” Genji’s ominous voice followed with the glow of his eyes didn’t leave for much argument.

Gabriel knew he was joking, or well, as much joking that a cyborg ninja that hated most things could do. Moira, simply amused at the final silence between the two men and the look of pure horror on Jesse’s face.

Commander Reyes brings a hand to rub over his face once in exasperation. Removing his gloved palm, he orders, “No mention of this mission to anyone when we arrive,” pinching the bridge of his nose. “Until I debrief with Morrison.” He finishes, knowing that he cannot omit anything out to Jack, but because of this, Jack will have a slew of choice words for him. It’s only a matter of word spreading of Blackwatch’s arrival in Venice, considering the sheer armada of Talon forces that tried to kill them.

Typically, after Gabriel debriefs, the others were called for their own interrogation to recall the mission’s events. It was within all four of their best interests to lay low and not utter a word for some time.  

The rest of the ride back resumed in silence that had tension-riddled in the air. Moira did not worry too much about it as she closed her eyes and allowed herself some time to rest before they touched back down to Gibraltar headquarters.

* * *

 

Getting back to her apartment on Gibraltar’s Base would not have been so bad if she wasn’t groggy and sporting a headache that did not show signs of waning. Her lack of hydration and need to eat something before she fell into her bed made her briefly contemplate if she wanted to take the extra steps towards the kitchen. Upon entering her apartment, she simply thought _I’ll replenish myself with nourishment later_ and lethargically began peeling off her Blackwatch uniform; leaving a trail towards her en-suite. Lights triggering on due to the motion sensory, she walks over to the shower to push the right buttons to have the water be the right temperature for her.

Waiting for the water to get appropriately hot, Moira returns to the mirror above her sink, barely gazing upon herself in the mirror as she discarded the last article atop of her head. She looked tired, her makeup mildly skewed and the bags of her eyes showing. Sighing, she reached for a makeup remover towelette and began wiping her face bare before she trudged towards the shower.

Moira’s thoughts consume of what Gabriel is going to tell Commander Morrison regarding the events that occurred tonight, er, early morning. Was he really going to take the fall for everything that transpired with Antonio? Granted the mission proved itself quite amusing, on the part of Jesse McCree’s painstakingly embarrassing Italian accent. His being fired from his cover job as a waiter was another scene to remember.

Replaying over the amusing parts of the mission once more provided humor for Moira as she began washing her hair. Consumed with her task, she didn’t hear the slight intrusion of the blonde Swiss German doctor in the bathroom.

“Would you like some assistance with that, Moira?” A Germanic accent thick with sleep inquires.

“Only if you wash my back,” Eyes closed as she resumes washing her hair, smiling at the company of her discreet girlfriend.

“Surprised that you chose to have your beauty sleep here, didn’t expect you to wait for me.” Opting for light-hearted morning banter since it was early for Angela but extremely late for her.

“I sensed someone had called for a Goddess, so here I am,” This caused an unexpected laugh to escape from the geneticist’s lips. Leave it to Angela to make quips regarding the previous year’s summer games costume she donned, at 5:46 in the morning.

“But I noticed the trails of clothes and knew you came back.” Reaching for the red loofa nearest her, she pours a dollop of moisturizing soap on it and began lathering it to begin the languid task.

The tranquil sound of the water and light breathing was all that was heard in the bathroom. Moira was slowly falling asleep while standing up, and Angela was waking up while doing this simple task. Noticing that the geneticist was nodding off, she pinched her bony buttocks. The action jolts her awake somewhat.

“I won’t be carrying you to bed you know.” She teases, lightly turning Moira so her back can face the spray of the water. She needed to rinse out the shampoo in her scalp and apply conditioner; not her own that she _somehow_ keeps running out of. Upon turning her, Angela notices four criss-cross red lines, almost all were faint in color and depth until one was a deeper hue of red. That one looked painful and started from where her left kidney was and diagonally made its way toward her pelvic bone.

Furrowing her brows at the injury, she looked up and saw Moira’s heterochromia eyes gazing at her from her tall stature. Angela, tempted to go into her typical doctor spiel about not taking proper care of herself out there, she knew that there are some things that cannot be helped. Making a mental note to dress the wound after their shower, she rose on her toes and pressed a light kiss to Moira’s lips. The Irish woman’s injuries served as a reminder that every mission they take could be their last, especially as healers of their respective operations. Where would Overwatch and Blackwatch be without their healers? Where would _they_ be without—

“You’re thinking again, Dr. Ziegler,” Breaking the kiss, her long, wispy fingers resting themselves on the respective doctor’s hips. “An assassin got a hold of me when I thought I had cover.” Moira knows that by sharing that tidbit, she already was in violation of Reyes’s orders of not disclosing any mission details. However, that’s difficult when one had visible evidence of the mission’s results carved into her skin. The blonde woman visibly tensed, which made the auburn-haired woman chuckle. “You needn’t worry, I gave those boys quite the verbal lashing after they picked me up” Anxiety and tension slowly ebbing from her posture.

“Let’s finish washing up before I freeze to death.” Washing themselves off effectively and appropriately before shutting off the water and exiting the shower. Angela properly toweling herself off, meanwhile, Moira’s laziness opts in choosing to grab her plush bathrobe before she began brushing her teeth. The red-headed woman smiles out of the corner of her eye as she realizes, despite the practically domestic life they lead behind closed doors, their lives are anything but. That and Angela’s eye roll was worth beholding.

A dry towel is plopped a top of Moira’s damp head. “You come back injured from your mission and you want to catch pneumonia as well?”

“Are you going to heal me regardless?” Quirking an auburn brow at the woman behind her in the mirror as the Swiss-German rolled her eyes again. That was her answer.

The two finish their bathroom banters and began making the short trek towards the master bedroom. O’Deorain sat on the bed, tempted to risk infection and fall asleep. However, she knew she wouldn’t hear the end of it from Angela. After all, her methods of healing herself were as unorthodox as her research and while in Ziegler’s presence, she would be treated the _humane_ way.

It did not take long for Dr. Ziegler to break out the extensive first aid kit and begin the meticulous work on the injuries inflicted on Moira. No one would believe Angela if she discloses how low of a pain tolerance Moira truly had when she had severe pain inflicted upon herself that wasn’t caused via self-experimentation. The pitiful whimpers escaping her lips made the woman patching her up roll her eyes (again) and share a small smile. Finishing her task by wrapping the gauze delicately around her waist and hip bones. Bringing her eyes up to notice the Irish woman’s quivering thin lips and the tears that refuse to fall.

Reaching over to the bed stand, she grabs a few tissues and dabs the older woman’s eyes thoughtfully. A shaky laugh rips through her unused throat, “I could have done that myself.” Her fatigue gives way to her Irish lilt, Angela loves when her husky accent comes out, no matter the reason.

“I couldn’t resist, plus, you look as though you could have passed on out me at any minute.” Ziegler’s voice was soft and hushed, as if she talked any louder, she might chase away the realm of sleep that O’Deorain was surely about to experience.

A genuine smile spread across the geneticist’s lips. “Do you work today?” An obvious answer.

“Jack wants me to take the day off, so I have no choice,” Sighing, she reaches behind Moira, pulling back the blankets and flat sheets. “I had several choice words for him. Research doesn’t take a vacation, so why should I?”

Humming in agreement to her fellow doctor, “Spoken like a true scientist,” Eyes slowly closing, she realizes now would be a good time to retire. “It’s nice to know that my poor working habits have rubbed off on you.” opening her cerulean blue eye, she beckons for the both of them to properly get in the bed. Knowing Angela, she probably was up all night doing research and more than likely got at least two hours of sleep, max before Moira returned.

Removing the bathrobe and tossing it carelessly on the floor, she decides it was time to get some sleep and cuddle up with her prodigal angel. Angela crawls forward carefully, bringing the blankets across the both of them as she places her head in the crook of Moira’s neck.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?”

The question almost caught Moira off-guard. She initially wanted to disclose some aspects of the mission to Angela, but she would have to omit the main cause of the mission progressing the way it did. However, the orders to not even utter a word until after Reyes debriefed with Strike Commander Morrison was another issue. Moira’s entire existence was to be the living embodiment of defying the rules set before her. Yet, she found herself hesitating.

Pondering briefly as she glances down at those hazy, crystalline blue eyes. Did she want to shatter Angela’s perception of Reyes or will he do that for her? There were not enough angels in this world, and Angela consistently strives to ensure that her research and inventions would benefit everyone in the most humane way. Ziegler adamantly refuses to take steps that threatened her own personal morality direction if that meant she had to tread towards the dark side of the scientific spectrum.

“I’ll sleep on it.” She drawls due to slumber slowly trying to claim her. Closing her eyes, she carefully wraps her arms around Angela, settling into her warm, soft form.

When she wakes up, she’ll feign ignorance to this entire conversation and blame it on sleep deprivation, dehydration, and hunger.

The geneticist may corrupt various concepts, ideas, scientific projects and occasionally, for her own amusement, people, with her own nonconformist ethics. Moira actively challenges Angela on a daily basis to improve her research, to try to be more open-minded with her approach to things. As long as she wants to see her succeed on the first try, she would rather be there to assist her with questions and run ideas for the improvements to be made. However, when it came to the people she knew and the decisions they make . . . Something pulled taut within her and restricted her from considering to tell her the events that have transpired.

It would shatter her grip on morality and her trust in Moira, considering she not only works under Dr. Ziegler but Gabriel Reyes as well. Leaning forward and pressing her lips against Angela’s forehead, a soothing sigh pass through her lips.

No, she decides.

 _I won’t tell her what happened in Venice_.

**Author's Note:**

> > Titles Fic: Debriefing  
> > There is no actual debriefing
> 
> I had to do it to'em.


End file.
